


worship.

by cl00wwnnnzz



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Dream Prison, Dream Smp, DreamSMP - Freeform, Masturbation, NSFW, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prison, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Smut, What Have I Done, dream thinks everyone loved him for some reason, dreams just alone nobody is visiting him currently, horny brain, no beta/we die like tommy in the prison, those were tags for "worship.", ||| - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 06:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30118716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl00wwnnnzz/pseuds/cl00wwnnnzz
Summary: he missed the way hands would slither up his thighs whenever he asked. missed the way anyone would cherish him, make him their god whenever he needed it.prison takes a toll on you over time, makes you empty. everything smelt like metal, and grease, and the old stale potatoes sam would throw down for him every once in a while like he was a rat in a cage made of steel. fucking pathetic. how do you even do that to another human? treat them like dirt, under your boots. the mere thought made dream reel in distaste. how dare he.a man with a god complex in prison with his thoughts and his hands makes whatever this is. also, dream in an orange jumpsuit? nice
Kudos: 9





	worship.

**Author's Note:**

> HEAVILY INSPIRED BY "Touch Faith" by horseparkour, PLEASE GO READ THAT AS WELL BEFORE/AFTER YOU READ THIS
> 
> first fanfiction post woooo, kinda love this not gonna lie, to be granted it took me like three days to write because i hated the formating so much i changed it repeatedly over and over until i settled on this, hope you like it
> 
> bookmarks, kudos, and comments greatly appreciated
> 
> pspspspsp, shoutout to my friend anarchy for helping proofread this dumpster fire and give me ideas (he basically gave me the whole entire idea for the ending, thanks)

he missed the way hands would slither up his thighs whenever he asked. missed the way anyone would cherish him, make him their god whenever he needed it.

prison takes a toll on you over time, makes you empty. everything smelt like metal, and grease, and the old stale potatoes sam would throw down for him every once in a while like he was a rat in a cage made of steel. fucking pathetic. how do you even do that to another human? treat them like dirt, under your boots. the mere thought made dream reel in distaste. how dare he.

to be granted, he wasn't much better, but dream, well. dream got a pass, he was a god, people cherished him. _idolized him,_ even. and all for what? him to be put here.

he sat against the wall, blocky, chipped obsidian digging into his shoulders while his hands lay limp at his sides, feeling too empty for his liking. no weapons, no nothing, just him and his wits.

hair lay over his eyebrows, his hair having grown exponentially since he was arrested, of course. there were no hairdressers in prison, nobody to hold his shaggy hair while they used sheers to snip at the edges, making his good looks shine throughout, even through his shaggy locks that his disciples fawned over.

he put his hands in his lap, holding them against his stomach while he thought, and thought. thought about his peasants and how they treated him, he was their oxygen, their water, their sustenance, their everything. he was everything. he **is** everything.

the thoughts drifted into dangerous territory, moving into the more private memory of being cherished and worshipped, hands grabbing at his body like he was the glue keeping them together. his hips digging into someone new every other night, because he was a god and got whatever he wanted, including sex. 

his hands pressed down, pressing against the spot just above his groin as he let out rasped breaths. one hand pressed the fabric of the ugly orange prison suit up to expose the happy trail of dusty blond hair leading into his just as ugly orange slacks. he sat up a little, rolling his head to the side as he stared down as his physique. he was truly _beautiful_ , he thought, while his thumbs mindlessly ran up and down the trail of fuzz leading to his glory. 

with those thumbs, he pulls down the slacks, letting them rest on his thighs loosely while he pressed and ran his fingers over the steadily growing bulge in his black briefs, letting his fingers dance like puppets over the twitching length hidden by the sheer fabric. his head lolled to the other side of his body, resting against his shoulder and partly the cold wall while his thumb danced over the elastic holding his length down, teasing him from his own exposure.

his thumb slipped under said elastic, pulling the fabric down as his half-hard dick sprung up, itching to be touched. he put the elastic down to the base of his length, ignoring the ecstasy that shot up his spine when he let the fabric lay against the base. one hand came up to his face, licking a stripe up his hand with a tongue that longed to be bitten and abused by another mouth besides its own, before spitting onto the head of his length, his eyes rolled at the feeling of the slime drip down the side of it, teasing him with a bead of precum. 

his thumb caught the precum, dragging it down a pulsing vein that rests on the upside of his shaft, down to the very base before beginning to rub up and down in the most teasing fashion possible, dreams eyes rolling to the side while he shifted against the hard obsidian floor and got more comfortable, his legs propped up very slightly, in a fashion that made him almost too vulnerable for his liking. facing the lava, if it fell down he would be seen, in all of his glory with a hand on his cock and another shaking holding himself up. so vulnerable.

he wasn't even ashamed to admit to nobody in particular that the thought made his cock twitch again.

his hand slowly closed around the empty space around his cock, the base being engulfed by his larger hands. even though he was almost dry, minus the small amount of spit, he gently pulled up, feeling a shiver of pure lust go across his body, going from his brain to his feet in a matter of seconds before he let out a choked cry. he hadn't done this in so long, refusing to sink this low to dare touch himself, he never needed to do it alone, always having his servants do it for him like they were supposed to. and how dare he sink this low? this was punishment, not pleasure. yet he moaned out when he slid his hand down, beads of precum leaking down his shaft in progression, like raindrops on a window. 

he began to properly pump his length, growling slurred swears under his breath while he pumped himself, before he knew it beginning to grind into his hand like it was one of his servants, needing to feel friction around himself. it's not like he lost his humility here, he lost it long ago, but even so, he felt a layer of thinly veiled humility that was left behind be stripped away raw, and fresh like an open wound.

his hand squeezed at the base as thick ropes of white shot out of him, his body twitching every time a rope left him, riding the orgasm as long as possible before releasing his shaft, his cramped hand resting to the side as he slowly felt himself begin to soften. his eyes opened up and he looked at himself; beads of sweat dripping down his thighs. he breathed out his own name, a grin forming across his masked face in the process. he used his hand to wipe the remaining cum off of his length, shuffling his briefs and slacks up. he laid against the wall, and began to doze off, his final thought before falling into his private paradise of a mind was that he needed to write this down.

he read the book out to himself, smiling at the journal like it was his baby, a prized possession. he put it into the chest after signing the cover, sighing to himself. _"I should publish that when I get out of here."_


End file.
